Strangers IV: Tender Mercies By Missy Gallant Rated: PG-13 Submitted: January 2004 First of all, I'd like to thank the readers for their support for this series. I would have never gotten as far if there hadn't been nags along the way. This story has had many beta readers throughout the writing process: Carol Moncado, Meredith Knight, Avia Tikosky, and Marnie Rowe. Thank you, ladies for all the hard work and encouragement you have given me. You all are wonderful! ****** Clark was thankful for any flat or upright surface that could support his weight as he made his way down the street looking for a taxi. Guard railings, trash cans, hoods of cars were all fair game until he had the great fortune of finding an abandoned grocery cart to push down the street. It supported his upper body weight and made it much easier to travel faster. Although he was weak from a second exposure of that strange rock, it was impossible for him stay still and wait; he had to do something to find Lois. It was just as well that it was so late at night. He didn't think that in his weakened condition he'd be able to go as far on his own. The curious stares and possible interference from passersby probably would have detained him. Or worse yet, have forced him to go to the hospital. With the old grocery cart, though, he just appeared to be a bit eccentric or perhaps a transient. He didn't care, as long as people left him to himself so that he could tend to the business of finding Lois. Mostly, the cart was helping him, keep his balance since his equilibrium was off from being so dizzy. If only he had the ability to fly, he could make a quick zip to the other side of the world, soak up some energy-providing rays, then he'd be in better condition. But as it was, he could barely put one foot in front of the other without stumbling. Then an encouraging thought came to mind - sugar! He knew from past experiences that sugar seemed to amplify sun's effect on him. Maybe it would give the energy stores still remaining in his body just enough of a boost to help him through the night. It was worth a try at least, because anything was better than blindly stumbling along the way he was. Now he had to find an all-night convenience store. In the next block down the street, he could see the neon light of the Grub & Grab store. He'd have to abandon his cart once he reached the corner because he didn't think he had the strength to push it up the curb after he crossed the street. The city was still working on upgrading the street corners to accommodate the handicapped, and they just hadn't gotten to his area of the city yet. Leaving the cart at the end of the street, Clark took a deep breath and stepped off the curb, which resulted in a hard tumble to the ground. The pain of hitting his head on the cement street blinded him for a second until it ebbed to a dull ache. He lay there for a moment, dazed by the unfamiliar feeling of being so weak and the welcome sensation of lying prone at last. The thought of being able to rest was almost overwhelming him, but not in the middle of a street, he realized with a start. If a car came barreling around the corner, he'd be struck before he knew it was coming. But he didn't know if he had the strength to move any longer. Forcing himself to his knees, he crawled towards the cart. If he could achieve upright status again, then perhaps he could force the cart up and over the curb. His body weight should help him with that. At last, after a few minutes of levering the cart up onto the sidewalk, he opened the door to the store, the doorbell piercing through the dull ache in his head. The scruffy store clerk watched him with bored eyes as Clark looked for the candy aisle. It took all his concentration to walk steadily, without wobbling too badly. Hopefully, the clerk would just think that he'd had a bit too much to drink and not that he was in need of medical care. After grabbing several candy bars, he thought to check if the donuts had arrived for the morning crowd yet. Donuts were always a great energy booster in the morning for him at the Daily Planet. No such luck. It still must be too early for delivery, he thought as he leaned against the condiment counter provided for the hot dogs and other fast food that would be available later in the day. A heat lamp warming some breakfast sandwiches caught Clark's attention. An idea began forming in his head as he passed his hand underneath its hot bulb. Could this possibly work? Making sure the clerk was distracted, he leaned heavily against the counter and stuck his head underneath the lamp. The heat source felt good on his skin, but after a few seconds under the light, he began to realize that the lamp was missing something. It was probably the lack of UV rays. His dizziness was returning from holding his head sideways under the hood, his skin getting hot, and Clark realized it could easily blister in his vulnerable condition. An unfamiliar noise sounded behind him, and he swiveled his head to see the clerk staring at him with his hands folded across his chest, a stance that was definitely intimidating. He'd have to try that sometime as Superman. All of a sudden, he lost his balance and fell against the counter, sliding down to the floor. The clerk left his bullying pose to kneel down beside Clark. "Are you okay, man?" he asked, then leaned over to sniff Clark's breath. "Or are you just drunk?" The candy bars lay on the ground where they had been dropped. "No, I just need candy bars... sugar," Clark slurred mindlessly as another wave of dizziness swept over him. He must have knocked his head against the counter as he'd fallen. "Can you check me out here?" "Yeah, sure..." The clerk looked at him dubiously. "Are you going to be all right? I'm not a doctor, but I can call 911." "No!" Clark replied a little louder than he intended, realizing the clerk misunderstood him. "I'll be fine. My blood sugar is just low. I meant, can I pay for those here?" He rolled on his side and reached for his wallet. "Oh, no!" he groaned. He'd forgotten to bring it with him when he left his apartment, not that he was thinking about anything but Lois when he departed. "I don't have my wallet," he said, glumly. The clerk rolled his eyes. He had seen and heard it all from scam artists trying to pull one over on him. Of course, the usual pranksters were about fifteen years younger than this guy, but maybe this one wasn't trying pull the wool over his eyes. He wasn't trying to walk away with beer or any age-related purchase, just sweets. The dizziness and pain were subsiding again. Clark saw questions and doubt wash over the other man's face but understood he was only doing his job by thinking the worst of a suspicious looking character. "I'm a reporter. I'm on an assignment, and I ran out of my apartment quickly. I think I left too fast because now I need a sugar fix. I promise I'll come back and reimburse you." Clark spied a small wire newsstand for the Daily Planet across the aisle from him. The newspapers were still wrapped with twine, having just arrived from the delivery truck. "Look! If you can hand me that paper, I think I can prove to you who I am. I'm Clark Kent from the Daily Planet." The clerk picked up a newspaper and handed it to Clark. Clark gave a silent prayer that his small photo in the advertising plug for the paper would be there today, but as he unfolded the paper, on the bottom of the front page was a photo of him and Lois at the White Orchid ball. In a very compromising position! His jaw dropped nearly down to his lap. The clerk peering over his shoulder grinned at him and asked, "Hey, man! Is that you in that picture? She's a doll!" Clark gulped. He was dead meat! Lois was *not* going to like this one single bit. That was, if he could ever raise himself off the floor and rescue her from those maniacal kidnappers. Maybe honestly was the best policy right now. The clerk seemed real interested that Clark had landed on the front page in a controversial photo - he was practically drooling with curiosity. "Yeah, that's me." "Looks like there's quite a story behind that picture," the clerk snickered. Clark sighed and leaned his head back against the counter, hoping if he allowed himself to look like he felt then the store clerk would take pity on him and let him have his candy bars. Luckily, the plan achieved its desired effect when the clerk rose to his feet and held out his hand to help him up. Clark groaned as he was pulled to his feet, and the clerk helped steady him once he was upright. "I'll tell you what I can do for you, Kent. I'll spot you a five then you can come back and pay me back personally." He grabbed a handful of Double Fudge Crunch bars and stuck them in the small bag along with the ones Clark chose. "There. These are two for a dollar this week so that should make it about five bucks worth." Clark received the bag gratefully and grinned weakly at the other man. "I appreciate this, ahh..." he answered as he looked for a name tag on the other man's shirt. "Frank. Frank DeMello." He squinted one eye at him doubtfully and asked, "You sure you can make it on your own? You look terrible." "I'll be fine, but I *really* need to go... my story is waiting." Clark moved towards the door, then gripped the handle to help steady himself. "Yeah, right!" Frank said doubtfully, then straightened himself up and returned to his station behind the counter. He opened up his wallet and waved a five-dollar bill at Clark before placing it in the cash register. "Guess if it wasn't important, you'd be in bed and not up with the night crawlers like me." "Right! And thanks again for your help. I'll repay you soon," Clark promised as he opened the door. "I don't live too far from here." "Hey! And if you get the chance, bring your girlfriend by. She's a real looker!" Frank called out after him. "Good luck on your story!" The doorbell drowned out the rest of the clerk's farewell. Clark put his small bag in the child's seat in the grocery cart after removing one of the candy bars. Aside from hitting his head again in the store, the small rest stop had at least cleared the dizziness. He took a huge bite of his chocolate bars before starting his next leg down the street. ***** A few blocks later, Clark was back to feeling woozy and out of breath. The extra sugar he'd eaten had either not reached his blood stream yet or wasn't helping him much. His muscles and head were screaming at him to stop and rest. There had been no cabs for him to flag down, and the later it became, the quieter the streets had become. It was probably not even an hour since he'd been exposed to the rock a second time, but it seemed as if an eternity had gone by. The pain of not knowing what those men were doing to Lois, even more than the pain caused by the rock poisoning, kept driving him onward. He was nearing the end of his stamina, he thought, doggedly placing one foot in front of the other. But if he stopped, he was afraid that he would never get moving again. Where was a taxi when he needed one? He wished he had had the presence of mind to ask the store clerk for a quarter so he could call for one. Not having to rely on transportation all his life had blinded him into the habit of thinking that he could always count on his powers. Then something caught his eye. A tiny beauty shop, squeezed in between a hardware store and a drug store, was only ten feet ahead of him. But what caught his attention was the cardboard advertisement reading, 'We now have No-Lines Tanning Beds'. Could that be the answer to his energy problem? Tanning beds operated using UV rays, and when he was under the heat lamp in the store, he felt that something was missing from the light. Was it UV rays? He was feeling desperate enough to try anything, and he was not going to be any help to Lois if he was passed out on the sidewalk, helpless as a baby. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes briefly, then looked up and down the street. No one was around, and he had to try. Someone's, *his* Lois' life could be in danger, and if he didn't do something drastic, then he'd never be able to forgive himself if something terrible happened. With determination in his eyes, he left the stability of the grocery cart in an alley behind the drug store, then picked his way to the back door of the beauty salon. He tried the door handle, but it was locked. A small painted-over window next to the door was partially hidden by a large garbage container. After gallantly shoving the waste container aside with his body weight, he found that trying to lift the window open didn't work; it was locked also. The wood frame appeared to be old for the paint was flaking, and the exposed wood was rough and grainy. He pressed on a windowpane, and it moved a bit. He shifted his hand further down the pane and pushed against it again until it gave some more. Now his fingers could fit in the gap between the glass and the wood making it easier to pry it away from the frame. Pulling the glass through the opening in the window, he laid it gently on the ground so he could replace it later. Suddenly, he sat down hard on the ground as his legs buckled beneath him. What exactly *was* he doing trying to get into a beauty parlor? It was breaking and entering, pure and simple! He was Superman - new defender of truth and justice! How could he justify this? A maelstrom of wooziness forced him to sit still for a moment, gritting his teeth, until it passed. Lois. That's how he could justify this, he thought as he leaned head against the brick wall. This was unethical, but technically he wasn't planning on destroying or stealing anything. If he had to, he'd come back as Superman and explain things to the owner, but for now, he had to try anything he could think of to regain his strength in order to find Lois. Renewed and resolute, he pulled himself to his feet and reached up through the window to unlock it. It wasn't very easy crawling through the small opening, but once he got his large frame through, it was fairly easy to fall forward and land on the floor. His tumble forward jumbled his equilibrium once again, causing more frustration. He was tired of feeling so poorly and practically helpless. A little bit more effort was needed here. Time to find a tanning bed. Bed. There was an incentive. Find the tanning bed and he could rest, if only for a short time; and hopefully, he could regain some of his strength. Clark opened his eyes, examining his location. It appeared to be a small supply room, he judged from the graduating shadows along the walls. Must be shelves. He confirmed his observation as he pulled himself to his feet using the shelves as support. Feeling along in the dark, the doorknob brushed against his hand, and he opened the door into a long hallway leading to the front of the shop. There was a bit more light in this room, and the illumination from the street cast shadows through the Venetian blinds around the perimeter of the shop. Clark was dismayed to see exactly how small the shop was as he paused in the shadows of the hallway. He had hoped it would be a bit more private and not so open to the street. Maybe this wasn't going to work at all. Maybe this was someone's way of telling him that he should find another way to regain his strength. No. He'd gotten this far, and now he needed to find that tanning bed. Where would they be? Not out in the open, but perhaps along this hallway. Clark felt along the wall until he found a door and walked inside. After shutting the door, he turned the light on; and at last, he had reached the destination he'd been working so hard for. Next objective: he had to get the tanning bed functioning properly. The last thing he wanted to do was break the contraption. A remote control panel on the side of the bed didn't look too complicated. Surely, it was something like operating a microwave oven. In theory, that was what you were doing to your skin: baking it to a nice golden brown. But, he needed it for another purpose; he had to get his strength back. He tentatively opened the top of the bed, feeling strange as he did it. It was almost like opening a coffin. How was he supposed to do this? Where was his head supposed to go? He really didn't like the idea that he would be encased in there without any breathing room. It almost reminded him of some of the nightmares he had as a child. He never could abide being in an enclosed place for very long. Pausing for a moment, he was almost blinded by the reflection from inside the bed, and it amplified his headache again. Where were his candy bars? He must have dropped them upon tumbling through the window. They should be in the supply room. Clark weaved his way back to the back room once again. After completing his task, he spied a telephone sitting on a built-in shelf in the hallway. Could he possibly risk calling his mother? She might know how to operate the tanning bed. If he really thought about it, it wasn't the mechanics of the bed that had him thinking about his mom; he just needed to talk to both his parents. They were the only people who would understand what he was going through, and they should know about this substance that could possibly kill him. If he should be exposed to it yet again during the course of the night - it *had* occurred twice in only a couple of hours - then his parents might never know what had happened to him. As he picked up the receiver, he noticed the long extension cord hanging down to the ground from the shelf. He might even be able to talk to them while he was in the bed; that would help his uneasiness about being in that enclosed space. Picking up the entire phone from the tiny shelf, he brought it into the small room, taking care to tuck the cord safely in the space between the floor and door. Relieved to take the load off his shaking legs, Clark slid down the wall, put the phone down next to him, and dialed the operator. "I'd like to place a collect call to Jonathan Kent, please," he requested, and then told the operator his parents' phone number. He waited until the operator had secured the call, heard his mom's sleepy voice immediately accepting the charges, and then said weakly, "Mom?" "Oh, Clark, honey! What's wrong?" Martha asked, worriedly. "You sound terrible!" "Oh, Mom, I'm sorry for calling you at this time of the night, but I *really* need to talk to you," Clark answered, an almost overwhelming sense of relief coming over him as he heard his mom's voice. The phone line clicked as his father picked up the additional phone. "Clark, what have you gotten yourself into, son? Does this have anything to do with becoming Superman?" "Not with Superman, Dad, but with who I am. Lois. Do you remember me mentioning Lois? She found this rock that renders me practically helpless. We're working on a case and..." "I knew it wasn't a good idea to let someone know about who you are, Clark! Dang it! She could be from the government. What do you know about this woman?" Jonathan raved angrily. "Dad! She didn't know it was dangerous when she showed me this rock. She got it from a couple of thugs who have, since then, kidnapped her! I've got to find her!!" His voice softened. "When she found the rock, she was with me as Clark and didn't recognize me as Kal. I don't know if she trusted Clark enough to tell him about it. But then later, after I rescued her again, as Superman, she wanted to know what I thought of it." He heard his mother gasp in surprise, then sighed. "Clark, now's not the time to talk about your girl, but if you want to later, I'll be happy to hear all about her. Where are you? At your place?" "See, that's the tricky part," Clark said shakily. "You're never going to believe me, but I'm in a beauty salon in one of their tanning booths. I thought that I could regain my strength by using the UV rays in a tanning bed. I have some candy bars too." "Son, just how much of your powers is gone?" Jonathan piped in. Clark paused a moment, then answered, "All of them, Dad. I've never felt so terrible in my life. I didn't want to worry you, but I don't know what the outcome is going to be, so I had to let you and Mom know." "Oh, honey! We'll be right there as soon as we can get a flight. You just stay there and wait for us." "Mom, Lois is missing and I need to find her. I suspect that the people who have her have killed before. That's why I've broken into here, to absorb some UV rays, and eat some sugar. I've told you how that seems to energize me when I'm in the sun, and then I *have* to find Lois. If anything happens to her... " His voice broke with emotion. "Clark..." "I don't know what they're doing to her," he despaired. Panic was threatening to take control. He almost dropped the phone to leave. He couldn't sit around while Lois was with *them*. "Clark! Be quiet and let us help you." After hearing the silence on the other end, Martha continued in a softer, but firm, voice. "Are you in the tanning bed now?" "No. I'm sitting on the floor." He left out that he didn't have the energy to stand any longer. "First thing. Take off your clothes and get down to your skivvies." "Mom!" "You want to get as much skin exposed to the rays as possible. But first, take a bite of your candy bar - it's good for you." "Son, I'll let your mother take over. Be careful, will you?" "Yeah, Dad. I'll try." "We love you." "I love you, too, Dad." "Jonathan, hang up the phone already! Clark's got to get undressed and get in that bed." "Bye, son." The phone line clicked, and Clark had to smile at his mother's take-charge attitude. He finally understood why kids needed their moms when they weren't feeling well. He never had gotten sick as a child and experienced Martha's nurse mode personally. There had always been animals that they'd nursed back to health together on the farm, but this was different - she was taking care of *him*. "Have you ever used one of these things, Mom?" "Oh, honey! I never had a need to. I always got a decent enough tan out in the garden. If I want to, I can lie out in the backyard without a stitch, and no one will see me. Now put the phone down and get your clothes off. Mind you, keep your essentials on. We don't know how your skin is going to react." Martha's voice had a hint of amusement in it. "We wouldn't want any pertinent parts getting blisters." "Mom..." Clark sighed, not relishing the idea that he'd be practically naked in a strange place. He struggled to his feet, then walked heavily over to the door and locked it. Even though he wasn't supposed to be here, he still needed his privacy just in case. After his clothes lay folded on a chair, he picked up the receiver and asked, "What's next, Mom?" "Where are the dials, sweetie? On the wall or bed?" "Um, dials?" His vision faded in and out as he tried to focus. "On the side of the bed there's a small panel," he answered wearily. "Sorry, Mom. I'm just not thinking very clearly. I'm glad I called you." "Oh, Clark! I wouldn't have it any other way. Now Maisie told me all about her one and only tanning session. Are the buttons labeled, or is this going to be guesswork?" Clark leaned in for a closer look, then blinked hard after he saw the commands. "I'm not so sure about this anymore, Mom. There are three settings: Light Brown, Slow Roast and Broil. I'm starting to feel like a T-bone steak." Martha let out a tiny laugh. "They're just joking with the clients. Now get in the bed and hit the Slow Roast button. I think it should be set for about ten minutes." "Okay, Mom." "Oh, and honey, don't forget those little goggles; they'll keep you from hurting your eyes." Clark located several pairs hanging on hooks on the wall. After looping a pair around his head and setting the controls, he settled wearily onto the bed, fatigued from all his efforts. Carefully making sure that the phone cord was safely hanging out of the open end of the bed, he closed the top and allowed his body to finally relax. The buzz from the lights was a bit noisy, but he heard his mom saying something. "Sounds like you got things going, sweetie. How does it feel?" Clark felt his skin beginning to tingle a bit as the rays began to absorb into his body. "Wonderful, Mom. It feels great," he answered gratefully. As his exhausted frame savored the life- giving light, Clark felt the pain in his body beginning to ebb with every second that passed. "I think this might work, Mom," he said lazily after a couple of minutes. Martha could hear her son's breathing getting slower and a bit heavier, and she sensed that he was getting close to falling asleep. The poor dear! She wished she could be there with him. In a way, she was thankful. It wouldn't help him to see just how much she was worried. Even if this worked - she was crossing her fingers that the tanning rays were helping him - she didn't know to what extent that his strength would come back. Clark had grown up being different. Although it had caused him a lot of emotional pain when he was younger, she knew in her heart that he'd be devastated if he lost his powers at this stage in his life. Being normal was not normal for her son, and she didn't know how long a time, if ever, it would take for him to adjust. A muffled bang reached her ear, and she heard Clark grunt, then mutter something under his breath. "Clark... honey?" "Mom, I've got to get out of here! This is ridiculous!" Clark had opened the top of the bed and was swinging his feet over to the floor. "What am I doing lying around when the woman I love is missing?" "Clark Jerome Kent!" Martha spoke sharply to her son. "I haven't had to discipline you in years, but right now I want you to listen to me." She listened intently for a second and heard him sigh. "You love her, sweetie?" she asked, not knowing if Clark had registered his little slip of the tongue. "I know we've just met, but yes, I love her," he said, his voice breaking. "Then listen to your old mom. Clark, you need to get stronger if you want to help her. I know it seems like you're neglecting her while you lie there on that bed, but sweetie, you're not going to be any good to Lois if you're weak and in pain. Do you think those few minutes helped? Do you feel any different?" "I got up quickly, but I wasn't dizzy anymore. And it didn't hurt so bad when I banged my head on the top," Clark said, more hopefully. "I think that's good." "Of course it is, honey," Martha said lovingly. "You just need to stick it out a while longer. Grab another candy bar while you're sitting, then let's go for another round." After a couple of moments, having munched another sugary snack, Clark spoke apologetically. "Thanks for talking me down, Mom. I know you're right, but it's so hard just waiting around. What should I set it for this time?" "What's your skin looking like? Is it getting pink?" "No, just a little darker. I think I'm tanning." "That's a positive sign, honey, but let's not overdo it. I always thought that you'd look good with a bit more coloring. Hit the Slow Roast button again. Does it look like you can override the presetting?" Clark pressed the keypad for a few moments and then replied, "Yeah, I think it's set for a half an hour now." "Lie back down, close your eyes and relax; I'll tell you about Wayne Irig's new tractor..." Martha prattled on about the comings and goings in a small Kansas town. Clark's responses to her came at longer and longer intervals, and after a while, she heard a faint snore. At last, he was out, she mused, smiling to herself. Guess they were never too old for you to put them to sleep. Knowing how anxious he was to get to his girl, she was sure he would wake up before too much time had passed. She waited a bit longer until she heard the light buzzing sound of the lights click off, then she said softly into the phone, "Goodnight, my son. Your momma loves you." Clark didn't hear the tiny click on the other end of the phone that signaled the end of their connection. He was completely oblivious to the worries of his world. ***** He woke with a start a while later as the phone's busy signal beeped steadily in his ear. It took him a couple of seconds to remember where he was - at the beauty parlor getting some UV rays. He felt tingly and surprisingly refreshed. After opening the top of the tanning bed, he sat up slowly, trying not to jinx the situation. The pain in his limbs was gone, and he was feeling more like his old self. For good measure, he tested his hearing: still nothing. One by one, he tested his powers just to make sure that something wasn't trying to come back. At least he could get on his way now, though it seemed that it would be at regular speed instead of super speed. Quickly, he got dressed and replaced everything in the small shop back to where he'd found it. Sometime during his mom's rambling, she had mentioned that she'd be sure to come to this shop and get her hair done next time she came to visit him. Clark wasn't sure what he would do later for the tiny beauty shop that had unwittingly helped him out. Maybe a surprise visit by Superman or a write-up in the paper about the quality of service that small shops provided would give them a boost in their sales. Right now, he didn't have time to plan; he needed to get out of here and find Lois. As he replaced the windowpane in the back-alley window, he hoped the time spent regaining common strength wasn't wasted and that Lois was holding her own. Clark took a breath of the night air and filled his lungs gratefully - no pain at last. He would have to find her the normal way as an ordinary Joe Blow looking for his Judy Regular. Another daunting task was ahead of him. He had to get across town without a dime in his pocket. At least he still had some candy bars, Clark thought as he clutched the small bag a bit tighter. He rounded the corner of the alley and struck out onto the street again, wondering if Lois liked Double Fudge Crunch bars, that was, if he could get them to her. He began to jog in the direction of the wharf side of town. He couldn't get rid of the dull ache of foreboding that was growing in his heart with every step he took. the more sensible part of his mind told him. <> he argued back to himself and upped his speed another notch. He slowed down a tiny bit and tucked the bag of candy in the large pocket in the front of his sweatshirt. A vision of Lois falling out the Lexor Hotel window flashed through his mind. She had been so frightened! Those thugs wouldn't hesitate to kill her if it suited them. He began running faster and faster as his mind filled daunting images of a scared, hurt or even dead Lois. He rounded the corner of a street, blindly crossing in the middle of it. A loud horn and a screech of tires were followed by a series of dull thumps as steel impacted all too human flesh. Up over the hood of the vehicle he tumbled, finally landing on the ground behind it. The driver cursed as he sped on his way down the street. ***** A couple of hours earlier... Lois crept around the bushes in front of the warehouse. The place was even creepier than she remembered, but she shrugged off an annoying case of nerves while working her way to the back of the large building. She thought she'd see if there was another entrance that she could use instead of the garage doors she had discovered the other night. Although she would try to get in that way if she had to, it seemed logical that there would be another entrance into the warehouse instead of waiting for someone to decide to open the garage doors. The taxi driver had argued with her when she insisted on getting out in this section of town. She'd had him drop her off a few blocks away so she wouldn't arouse any more suspicion than necessary. Remembering the night before when she'd been down here with Bobby, she'd known to stay as incognito as possible. Walking out in the open, she would have been a direct target for the unsavory characters she had seen staggering out of dilapidated buildings and sleeping in trash-filled doorways last night. Plus, it was much later at night now. The lowest of the lowlifes would be out in all their glory, and she hadn't had the time, *nor* the mood to put up with them. Finally, she had reached her destination and was now looking for a way inside. Gathering her wits, she turned another corner around the back of the building and found what she was looking for: a real entrance. Faint light shone under the door. It was almost undetectable, but Lois picked it out after staring at the threshold for a couple of seconds. Placing her hand on the handle, she turned it slowly and opened the door a crack. She peered in, and not seeing anyone, entered all the way in, leaving the door slightly opened behind her just in case she needed to get out of there fast. The light in the room was a single dim bulb, barely affording enough light to discern the condition of the room. Dusty boxes filled most of the floor space, but a crude hallway had been formed from stacked boxes on the one side of the room. The randomly piled containers would provide cover if she needed it, she noted while working her way along the 'hallway', the light becoming fainter as she moved away from its source. Could she have been wrong? So far nothing had turned up out of the ordinary. As she walked deeper into the warehouse, the tiny source of light became practically useless to her. The hallway took a right turn and she was shuffling in complete darkness. She cursed at herself for not bringing a flashlight; her old one was still stuffed away in a box in the bottom of her closet. As she rounded one more turn in the makeshift hallway, the darkness lifted, revealing a more finished part of the warehouse rather than the bare construction brick she had seen near the entrance. Voices were audible now, although nothing coherent could be distinguished. Lois peered around another wall of boxes and located the source of the voices coming from an adjacent room. The door was ajar, and Lois crept up and peered through the crack. She saw an open room with several men and immediately recognized the gunman, McInnis - the thug who had tossed her out of the ballroom window earlier - by his tall, lanky frame. The remaining two men appeared to be the ones who had taken the mayor away *and* had the green rock that had hurt Kal. She would never forget Joe Rockhead's face, even though he had a huge beefsteak covering one eye now. He looked like a perfect candidate for a Flintstones bad guy - dumb, and with a large piece of meat hanging over his face. Another man, Luthor, was stretched out on a couch with a conventional ice pack resting lopsidedly on his head. He didn't appear to be moving; either he was unconscious or asleep. "I still can't believe you idiots hit the boss that hard. I thought you knew that you were only supposed to graze him with the butt of that gun. Stupid mistakes. I *hate* stupid mistakes!" McInnis spat angrily. "I'm not a mind reader, you know. And it's a good thing that he hasn't woken up yet. The boss is gonna be spitting mad!" The boss! Some things just didn't add up from the scenario in front of her. Why would Luthor be kidnapped by his own men? She wasn't quite certain at the time that she was being held hostage that it was them in the ballroom since their faces had been covered. Now that she had the chance to actually think about it, it didn't make sense. "C'mon Mickey, Einstein here already paid for his slip up. It'll never happen again," Larry pleaded. "What we need to do is figure what to do when he *does* wake up." "Yeah, Larry! You told me there'd be no slip-ups at that damn ball. Now it's my head that has to pay for your stupidity." "Hey! Not your head! I'm the one that's gonna have a Technicolor shiner," Joe Rockhead retorted as he removed the steak away from his face briefly. "Besides, I ain't stupid! I was just trying to disguise the rock until we could get it later. Who would have known that a stupid chick would be snooping around looking to ruin our plans. So what are we going to do about our good mayor Luthor now?" Stupid chick? First chance she had, she was going to be proving just how wrong he was. Blackening his other eye would be good for a start. "Listen, Joe! Just stay out of this. The less you know, the less you're gonna screw up," McInnis said disgustedly. "Why don't you and your brother go get us some food at Ace O' Clubs and make yourselves useful? Don't get that gut-rot chili this time either. I need time to think." "C'mon Larry. Let's go," Joe, alias Einstein, said. "Hey, you gonna give us some bucks?" "Whaddya we do if all they have *is* that gut-rot chili? I think that's all they know how ta make." Lois snorted silently to herself. The only thing that concoction was good for was removing paint. "Einstein, I don't want to tax your brain here, but believe me, you can figure it out." "Money, Mickey," Larry blurted impatiently, anxious to get out of there before Luthor *did* wake up. "Yeah, give me a sec. My wallet's in the other room." McInnis left the room through another door and disappeared out of sight. Lois could barely believe what she was seeing and hearing! She had found Luthor and his thugs! Just as she'd expected, they were working together on something. Luthor was out of commission for a while, it appeared, but she was almost certain he'd be back in the thick of things too soon for her taste. You can't kill bad grass, her old editor in California used to say. Larry returned, fumbled in his wallet and pulled out a few bills. "Here, now get out of here." The two brothers sauntered toward Lois. She was pressed up against the wall near the door as far as she could go, hoping that the darkness would be enough to cover her. Omigosh! What was she going to do now? Wait here in the dark until something happened, or should she nose around on her own? As the men disappeared from view, she heard one of the thugs, Joe, she presumed, ask his brother, "So what are we going to do about finding that rock?" The answer was muffled as the men moved out of earshot. Drat! Now she was torn as to whether she should stay here and wait to see what happened when Luthor woke up, or follow the goons to see if they would reveal any more information about that rock. They must know their way around, because she had little difficulty keeping pace with them in the dark as she followed the sound of their footsteps. Now that she knew where they were hiding out, she could always find her way back here. Ace o' Clubs. It shouldn't be far, and she could call Clark from there; that was, if she decided that she needed his help with this. He'd better be home now, or he was going to hear about it tomorrow! She waited till the footsteps faded in the background before quietly followed the dark hallway back to its entrance. She opened the door carefully and looked around for Joe and the other hapless goon. Seeing their shadows disappear around the corner, she walked as fast as she dared to trail them. ***** The front door of the club had been propped open for some unknown reason, but once she got a good whiff of the inside, the reason became very apparent. The smell was worse than the night before. Burned food odors were added to the wonderful cocktail of beer and smoke. Lois kept her eye on the brothers. They had bellied up to the bar and had ordered drinks while waiting for their takeout. Neither one of them seemed to be the brightest bulb in the box; although the one called Larry appeared to have a bit more wattage than Joe. Geez! Did Joe really believe he could drop a glowing rock in a punchbowl and expect her to leave it alone? He'd better think again. What kind of hiding place was that? Turning her back towards them, she inched a bit closer along the wall, hiding her face, wanting to get into a position to where she could hear them clearly. She hadn't yet found out what they were planning to do to locate the rock. Their conversation had strayed by the time she had caught up with them. Now she was hoping they would remember that conversation and return to it so she could spy on them properly. She doubted they had enough smarts to recognize her in her change of casual clothes. Still couldn't hear what they were saying. Darn it! Maybe if she sat right behind them with her back turned... no, that wouldn't do. Just her luck, some scum bucket would hit on her and there would be a scene. What she really needed was a place to listen to them in private. Her eyes grew wide with determination as the obvious plan began to form in her head. Why not? If she could get behind the bar without being seen and hide, then her little stakeout should work. There was no one at the bar for the moment; the brothers already had their drinks when she had arrived. Opportunity, or misfortune, whichever way you wanted to look at it, walked through the doors at that moment, and Lois found herself staring at a familiar face. "Bobby?" Lois hissed. "What are you doing here?" "Hey! Nice to see you too, doll," he greeted just a bit too loudly for Lois' taste. "I came in to report to my lovely wife. You really did a number on her last night. Now I hafta check in with her every hour, on the hour, *thanks* to ..." "Quiet, Bobby!" Lois sneaked a quick glance behind her, then turned back to him. "You're about as subtle as a bull in a china shop!" Bobby suddenly changed his tone. "What are you doing here, anyway? Not exactly your part of town, but then again, since when has that stopped you?" "I'm working, if you *must* know," Lois said, defensively. Bobby eyes shifted around the smoky interior of the bar, and looked inquisitively at the rowdy drunks and cheesy atmosphere. "*This* should be rich," he retorted. "And now that you're here, you're about to help me." She grabbed him by the front of the shirt and yanked him forward, then swung him around so that he was shielding her from the view of the brothers at the bar. "Um... Lois?" Bobby whispered nervously as she positioned herself behind him about five feet away from the thugs. "I wanna inform you that if my dear sweet wife sees me with you again, then I may not live to see the light of day." "Bobby! Get a grip! Those guys may know something about your good buddy, Bruno. I can't explain now, but play along." "Gus! His name was Gus. And okay, I'll play along, but if you see Rose, you'd better duck!" "Fine! Now be quiet so I can hear something." "I don't know how you expect to do that. It's so loud in here my teeth are rattling." A couple of burly men were situated between them and the two thugs, and Lois realized she'd have to get closer if she was ever going to learn any information from them. "Bobby!" she whispered hoarsely, "Do something about those brutes next to you! I can't hear a word the other idiots are saying." Bobby opened his mouth to speak but shut it abruptly, realizing that arguing with Lois was a losing battle. He glanced around the room, suddenly looking pleased with himself. "Hey dudes! See those two suckers over there? When it comes to playing pool, they're the champs of the place. I'll buy your drinks for the rest of the night if you can beat them at their own game." One of the large men puffed out his chest and looked indignant. "You ain't trying to feed us a bunch of bull, huh, Bub?" "No way! I'm a gourmet cook. I think too much of food to feed anybody bull." Bobby opened up his wallet and laid a five-dollar bill on the bar. "You guys get beatin' those braggarts, and I'll supply the beer when the bartender decides to quit sleeping in the back room. I'd play them myself, but I stink at pool." The two men exchanged a couple of grunts and glances at each other, then they sauntered over to the pool table. Lois nodded her approval as she pushed Bobby a bit further down the bar. The men's voices became less garbled and more clear. "Whaddya think's going to happen to us when the boss wakes up, huh, Larry? I don't think Luthor's gonna be too happy with us." "No, Joe. Probably not," Larry said distractedly as he swirled his beer around in his bottle. "Maybe we should cut our losses and skip town. This is making me real scared, Larry." Larry slammed his beer on the bar. "Dammit, Joe! I'm nervous enough without you harping in my ear about it constantly. And no, we can't run! *He* has eyes everywhere; he'd find us eventually, and then we'd be dead. And if you keep mentioning his name, *I'm* gonna kill ya personally! We gotta find a way to fix this." "Fix it how, Larry?" "We got to find that chick and get our rock back. Force her to tell us where it is." Lois' eyes widened in panic at their intent to find her and the rock. And she was standing only a couple of feet away from them. Not good! She reached down to feel for the small object in her pants pocket, and the blood drained from her face as she realized it was missing. Where was the rock? After leaving Kal in her apartment, she'd retrieved it from the alleyway, wrapped it back in its foil, and stuck it in her pocket. She hadn't wanted to take a chance that the kidnappers would come nosing around her alley and find it. Now it was missing! Bobby's face took on a grim appearance as he pointed to the doorway and mouthed, "Let's get you outta here!" Lois nodded, but suddenly ducked beneath the cover of the bar as Rose returned from the kitchen with a tray of clean glasses. "Sorry, guys! The kitchen help has gone home sick, and you're stuck with... Bobby!" Bobby had turned and was about to follow Lois, who was crawling quickly alongside the bar and had disappeared around the corner. He hesitated for a moment, not certain whether to make sure Lois was out of danger or risk the wrath of his wife if he ignored her. Of course he risked the wrath of his wife if she found out that he was helping Lois, so he decided to take a chance. He took a quick peek downwards and confirmed that Lois was indeed out of sight before turning back to his wife. "Yeah, you wanted somethin', kitten?" he asked innocently. "It's about time you got here! Go do whatever you do in the kitchen and make us something edible," Rose ordered with an exasperated look on her face. "I'm all alone working here in this joint." Bobby didn't want to leave the men at the bar until he could be sure that Lois was safely out of the place, but it was likely she had a pretty good head start by now. He was still on shaky ground with Rose and needed to score some brownie points. Anyway, he was getting rather hungry, and a bite to eat was starting to sound pretty good. Lois scouted around for a telephone. Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, she kept to the perimeters of the bar. Wandering over to the hole in the wall that was the bathroom, she looked for a way to escape without having to crawl back into sight of the thugs. No windows or any other exit was available in the rest room. Out in the entrance was a pay phone. She dug around in her pocket for Clark's phone number and the proper change. Although it wasn't the cleanest place she'd ever been, she could hide in the stinky room until either Clark arrived or the bad guys left. With nervous hands she dialed his number. Please be home, she pleaded to Clark. She let it ring several times until his answering machine picked up the call. "You have reached the home of Clark Kent. Sorry, I'm not available, but please leave your message at the sound of the beep." "Clark! If you are there, please pick up the phone. This is Lois and I need your help..." ***** The taxi driver almost turned the corner, but hit his brakes and thrust his car into reverse. What was he doing leaving the scene of a hit-and-run? He could lose his driver's license, or even worse, his freedom, if he was caught and convicted. It wasn't worth risking his life's work. What would his wife and kids do if he landed in the slammer? Sure, the kids were practically out of the house, but tuition for his three college-aged children didn't come cheap. The cabbie angled his car in the street so that it was protecting the man he'd just hit from oncoming traffic. Too afraid to look at him directly, he glanced at the man reflected in his rearview mirror. A bit fearful at what condition he might find the poor bloke in, the driver sat for an agonizing second in his seat before opening the door and seeing to his victim. The stricken man was moving. But he was injured; the guy was clutching his side where the car had slammed into him and had not risen from the ground yet. The driver knelt down next to Clark and started talking immediately in his own defense. He didn't know if the guy would understand him, but had to fill the panic of the moment with something. "Gee, man! Why'd ya have to go and run out in the middle of the street like that? Ya nuts or somethin'?" Clark opened his eyes slowly through new pain this time, not caused by a mysterious rock but real human injuries, and looked into the kind face of an older man in his fifties. "Great! You're still alive! Can you move?" For a moment, Clark stared into the worried gray eyes of the cabby. "Yeah, I think so." Clark gritted his teeth tightly as he felt hands turn him on his back. Suddenly, he remembered that he needed to breathe, and as he did so, felt the bones in his side grinding together. Oh no! Broken ribs? "Wait here and lemme call 911 on my radio. They can get an ambulance here real fast." "Um, wait!" Clark interrupted. "Just help me sit up. I think I'm fine. It's just my ribs." "I don't think you're fine." The driver gently touched Clark's side and felt the bones give way a bit too easily in spite of his light contact. "This feels terrible." "Oww! That's the spot!" Clark moaned and pulled away from the gruff stranger's probing hands. "Are you hurt anywhere else? Man, you took quite a hit. I'm sorry, but the way you ran out so suddenly, there was no way I could have stopped in time." "It's okay... my fault," Clark apologized, as he began to realize how dumb he had been to run blindly in the streets. "Can I take you someplace? Hospital? Home? Girlfriend's?" the cabby asked, mentally keeping his fingers crossed that this guy wouldn't sue the pants off him for running him over. "No hospital. Ace O'Clubs, if you don't mind. Do you know where that is?" The cabby lifted a curious eyebrow and scratched the top of his head. "Yeah. Been there. Nasty place, even for an old salt like me." "A friend, a woman, called me from there. I think she's stranded. That's why I was running. I'm so worried about her." Clark closed his eyes and remembered through the pain the reason why he was bolting. The older man's face softened for a moment as he thought of his oldest daughter and how he would regard any young man who'd be just as concerned for her welfare. "Come on, son," he said as he rose to his feet. "I'll take you anywhere you want to go. Within reason, of course." He bent down and supported Clark under the arms, helping him to his feet. Clark grunted as he rose, holding his hand against his side to keep the ribs from grinding against each other as he was assisted in standing. The silver lining in this cloud of a mess was that he now had a ride to the Ace O'Clubs, and maybe even someone who was willing to aid him in finding Lois. But he wouldn't let this kind stranger put himself into any sort of danger for him. "Wait a minute! My glasses... are they broken?" Clark remembered as he turned back to find them. "I'll look. You stay here," the cabby commanded. The driver opened up the back seat door to the taxi and supported Clark's weight as he got in. Clark sat gratefully down after an uncomfortable descent onto the seat and felt a bit dizzy all of a sudden. Was this night ever going to end? The elder man returned after a couple of minutes and turned around in his seat to hand a pair of grimy, but unbroken, glasses to Clark. An old towel soon followed, and Clark was able to clean them off. The cabby kept up a cheerful chatter all the way across town, frequently slowing down over the many potholes in the street to keep from jostling his ribs too much, but Clark was relieved when they finally pulled up in the parking lot of the Ace O'Clubs. "Hey, man! This place looks like it's closing down. I don't think your girl's gonna be here anymore. You want me to go in and see for ya?" Clark considered letting the cabby check the place out, but didn't believe he could sit in the taxi while the driver was gone. "Why don't you stay here in the taxi and protect your property? I don't think this is the best neighborhood to leave a valuable vehicle. I'd really appreciate it if you could wait until I'm done here." "Yeah... that might be for the best. If my taxi gets jacked, then we're both stranded." Clark struggled out of the back seat, relieved to not be putting any more pressure on his injured side. It seemed that his ribs were the only part of his body that was injured; it could have been far worse considering how hard he had been hit. Maybe his Kryptonian genes were still tougher than a human's at normal strength, or the tanning session had restored him a bit more than he'd thought. He walked through the front door that was propped open and looked around. The smell that hit his nostrils let him know exactly why the place needed airing out. His gaze fell upon the pay phone situated between the men' and women's bathrooms just off the entrance. The receiver was still dangling; no one had bothered to replace it yet. He walked over and cradled the receiver thoughtfully in his hand, looking for any clues that might have been left behind. He saw a piece of paper that was out of place among the rest of the trash on the floor. It was of pastel design among the crushed, darkly sodden peanut shells, lipstick-stained cigarette butts, and cast away beer bottle labels. He picked it up and found it was the note with his phone number scribbled on it. He clenched his jaw and sighed. If anything happened to Lois, the slimeballs who took her better watch out! A winter in Siberia would be too good for them. Supporting his injured side with his hand, he wandered into the main area and noticed a rather tall waitress collecting dirty dishes in a large tray in the middle of the room. "Ahem..." He cleared his throat, trying to think of the best way to approach the situation. "Are you closing?" "Mr. Kent? Is that you?" Rose Cooper exclaimed, after turning around and recognizing him. "What are you doing here at this time of the night?" She glanced at the clock on the wall. "Or should I say morning?" "Ms. Cooper? Are you working two jobs?" "It's Rose here in this joint, honey. Ain't nothin' formal about me here," she said amusedly, but a bit wearily. "Pardon my asking, but don't you have to be at work in City Hall in a few short hours?" "Good thing I'll be quitting this hectic schedule soon. Couldn't leave old Ace hanging after I got the secretary position." Rose lowered her voice and asked him, "Did you hear about the mayor? He was kidnapped." "I know. I was there," Clark said. Her eyes held his for a long second, serious now, no longer cold and unreadable as she had been with him earlier in the day. Her personality and demeanor were totally different. She seemed warmer and more human to Clark. Making a snap judgment, he threw caution to the wind and decided to lay his cards on the table. "Rose, my partner from the newspaper called me from here, oh, about an hour and a half ago," Clark said under his breath. "Do you remember her? She was with me in Mayor Luthor's office." His voice dropped even lower, "I need to find her, Rose. It's pretty important. Did you see anything unusual?" Rose glanced around the room first before speaking. "No, it's been really busy here all night. But the only thing out of the norm about that time was while I was in the back preparing some takeout for a couple of guys. It's kind of strange; they waited for ten minutes and left without picking up their food. They had paid for it upfront." "Did you see what they looked like?" Clark queried. "Just your average-looking Joes. I think one of them was named Larry, and the other had the beginnings of a terrible-looking black eye. That's what caught my attention." Rose shook her head. "I'm sorry, that's all I have." Clark frowned. There had been three gunmen who had busted in on the ball, but only two of them had actually taken Luthor away. The third one - if he recalled correctly, the tall gunman - had been giving the other two orders right before he had thrown Lois out the ballroom window. Perhaps he was using his higher position and had sent the other two out to get food. Bobby suddenly walked through the kitchen doors loudly announcing, "Okay, doll! Your entree for tomorrow is done. All ya need to do is take it from the fridge and warm it on low. I don't think you can ruin it... Clark, is that you?" "Bobby? What are you doing here?" They both asked at the same time. "You two know each other?" Rose interjected as she hoisted a large tray of dirty dishes off a table with ease. "You know Clark, too," Bobby directed at his wife. "Geez! Well, ain't this all warm and fuzzy. Do you know that Clark has presented me with my most challenging project? He brings me the most delicious Chinese food I've ever had the pleasure of getting my lips around, yet I can't duplicate the recipe even if my life depended on it." "Yeah, well that's all fine and good, but if we're ever going to get out of here, I've got to get my dishes done. Hope you find your girlfriend, Clark." With the clanking tray of dishes, Rose disappeared into the kitchen. "Clark, my man! Have you been holding out on me? You never told me you had a girl!" Bobby exclaimed, rather proudly. "Don't tell me you're having trouble with her already." "She's not my girlfriend yet, although I'm hopeful," Clark replied, looking rather embarrassed. "But she's missing. She called me from this payphone, but our conversation was cut off. I came as quickly as I could, but I'm having some, um... health problems and couldn't get here very fast." "Ya look like you've been eating the chili around here," Bobby quipped, looked warily at Clark, then processed some information in the back of his mind. "Her name wouldn't be Lois, would it?" Clark's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Do you know her? Have you seen her?" "Oh, she was here all right, and dragged me into whatever scheme she had cooked up at that moment. You got a tiger by the tail, Kent. Ya gonna need more than dumb luck to keep up with that one." Clark sighed, grimacing a bit as his ribs reminded him not to breathe so deeply. Bobby saw the pain flash briefly across the reporter's face, prompting him to get back to the original subject. "She was spying on a couple of guys and overheard them threatening her. Something about a rock she had and they wanted. The last I saw of her, she was booking it on out of here." "What about the two men? Did you see them leave?" Clark asked, anger replacing the pain in his eyes. "No, but come to think of it, they disappeared pretty quickly. I was talking to Rose by the bar and the guys stepped past me to go to the john, at least I think that's was where they were going. I hung around to see if they'd return, but they seemed to have disappeared." Clark's face held a concerned glare. That was probably when they grabbed Lois. His phone number that he had found on the floor was almost certain proof that she had been there. How could they have gotten away without someone seeing them take her? Bobby had been watching for them. How and when didn't matter anyway, all he wanted was to find her and keep her safe. "Thanks, Bobby," he muttered determinedly. "If you see her again, *don't* let her go anywhere." "Gotcha, Clark," Bobby replied, as he watched the reporter walk out the door. Clark was relieved that the taxi driver was still waiting outside, but was even more grateful that he could sit down again. His ribs were hurting him badly. He wished that he could get to the bottom of what happened to Lois. Every minute that ticked by could be taking Lois farther from him. There had to be a breakthrough soon. "You know, mister," the driver said thoughtfully, "I've been thinking while you were inside, and I don't know if this'll be any help to ya, but I dropped a woman off not too far from here about three hours ago. I argued with her and told her that this wasn't a place for lady, but she told me to stuff it and just take her where she wanted to go." "Oh?" Clark questioned attentively. "That sounds like something she might say. Where did you take her?" "It wasn't any particular place; I dropped her off in the middle of the block, but I can take you there the long way so we can look around." The driver began winding his way around the seedy neighborhood, taking his time so Clark could scour the area as he looked for anything that could give him a clue as to Lois' whereabouts. As they turned a corner onto another street, Clark suddenly saw something that made his blood run cold, yet made him want to shout for joy at the same time. A tiny green glow shone through the darkness in an alleyway behind a huge warehouse. "Stop here," Clark requested. "I think I've found the place. I can take it from here." "Are you sure, man? Whether you admit it or not, you're hurt pretty badly. I'd hate to see you puncture a lung with one of those broken ribs." "If I can find *her*, it would be worth it," Clark said firmly as he opened the door. "Um, mister? Thank you for helping me out. I'm sorry I don't have any money with me, but if you call the Daily Planet and ask for me, Clark Kent, we can work something out so I can pay you for your time." "Yeah, pay me for running you down... Clark Kent? You're Clark Kent! Man, oh, man! My wife's going to kill me if she finds out that I almost killed you! She's your biggest fan! Reads your articles first when we get the paper in the morning." He finally took a good look at Clark's anxious face and smiled sheepishly. "Um, I'd better let you get going." "Bring your wife to the Daily Planet, and I'll give you both a tour. But I'd better go now," Clark said gently as the radio started to talk to the driver. "Looks like you have another job." "Be careful, Mr. Kent. I'll keep swinging through this area for as long as I'm working tonight." "Thanks." Clark got out of the taxi and waited a second as it drove away. The tiny point of green light beckoned him a few yards away in front of the door. First, he had to deal with that rock again; then hopefully, find Lois inside. ***** Clark thought it was rather clever of Lois to leave the rock as a clue for him. Maybe she thought she was marking the spot for Bobby to locate her, but whatever reason she had for leaving it there didn't matter. He was glad to have seen it from the taxi. The effects of the rock hadn't reached him yet; he was still far enough away, and the rock was still partially covered with foil. He could see the irregular shape of the glow and the eerie reflections off the wrinkles in the loose wrapping. He could only hope that by it being somewhat covered in lead, the potency of the rock would be reduced. Clark looked around the alleyway to for something to push the rock away. If he could find a long enough object to shove it away from the door, than maybe he could get by without experiencing the rock's ill effects. Sending it like a hockey puck to the moon appealed to him greatly, but that was out of the question for now. More conventional means of getting rid of the object would have to do. An old piece of rain gutter on the warehouse wall caught his eye as the pre-dawn light began to erase the dark shadows of the evening. The top fastener had come undone, and it was listing drunkenly off to one side. Clark believed that it would do nicely. It even had the slight curve on the end of it like a hockey stick, but was much longer. With the one hand that wasn't supporting his ribs, he jerked the remaining fastener free from the wall and let the gutter fall slowly to the ground. Perfect. He could even maneuver the rock with one end of the gutter tucked between his elbow and waist with his hand controlling its movements a bit further down. Now he needed to decide on what to do with the rock. He couldn't leave it where any of those lunatics would find it, but didn't want to lose it completely. He was very curious about where it came from and why it affected him the way it did. There was always the piece in his apartment that he could take to a lab if he got rid of this one permanently when he found a technician he could trust. But for now, he wanted this rock as far from him as possible. Clark pushed it away from the warehouse and was not quite sure where to go with it when he reached the curb. The alleyway had ended only a few feet beyond the entrance, and the three-sided area was too small to hide the rock in there without him getting exposed again. He didn't see a sewer grate anywhere, but a manhole cover was a few feet away. Hoping that the rock would fit through one of the small holes on top, he nudged it in that direction. It was quite difficult to get the rock centered properly over the hole because of the awkwardness of the gutter, yet once he had achieved his objective, the rock fell part way into the opening. Then, it got stuck. That was just great, Clark thought grumpily. After trying unsuccessfully to hammer the rock down the hole, he replaced the pipe in the alleyway. He decided to brave the consequences and take a strafing run at the rock to see if it would fall through with a couple of quick stomps of his foot. If it didn't go as hoped, than he didn't know what plan B was going to be. This just had to work. His limbs were aching again, but he needed to get this over with. The foil seemed to have been stripped away from the rock as it had rolled along the cement, because it was glowing a bit brighter now. Taking as deep breath as he could without his ribs screaming at him, he charged at the manhole cover and brought his heel down sharply over the rock. A very satisfying plop could be heard as the rock squirted through the hole and landed in the water below. Clark staggered back to the rear entrance again, forcing himself to keep moving although he desperately wanted to rest. The handle turned easily, and he stepped into the warehouse. Lois just had to be here! He didn't know where to turn if he couldn't find her. He bypassed the entrance area, then wound his way around the same path that, unknown to him, Lois had taken a few hours earlier. It was quiet. Too quiet, Clark thought, beginning to think that there wasn't any hope of finding even one person in this huge place. Then he turned another corner of boxes and saw the open door of the finished area of the warehouse. Lex Luthor was sitting on a couch, looking almost as much as worse for wear as Clark felt. His tux was dirty and his tie was askew. His eyes were blinking sleepily and his hand was clutching his head. A telltale ice pack was lying next to him on a cushion as Clark remembered that the mayor was conked on the head by one of the gunman at the ball. Where were Luthor's kidnappers? It seemed rather strange that he would be left alone without a guard or at least a rope tying him up; unless he'd been out cold all this time and was finally coming out of it. The mayor looked too disoriented to be capable of rational thought. Clark nearly groaned out loud. How was he going to take care of Luthor and find Lois at the same time? He was in pain from his injury and barely able to get around. He needed sleep desperately and was only running on adrenaline caused by Lois being in danger. Part of him wanted to leave Luthor and come back for him later after Lois was carefully tucked far away from these people. Alone in the room, Luthor didn't appear to be threatened at the moment, and Clark was very tempted to turn away and continue his search. The moral fibers that made him Superman couldn't let him turn away. Here was a man for whom he had no real proof of corruption - just his personal suspicions, - and he could never let his feelings about someone get in the way of his ethical responsibilities. If Lois was being held here, it wasn't in the room with Luthor. There was an adjoining room next to the one that Luthor was in that he would have to check out. In order to do that, he would have to reveal himself to the mayor. He stepped into the room and placed his finger over his mouth, signaling for Lex to be quiet, then he mouthed, "Let's get out of here!" A loud laugh followed. "Mr. Kent! Are you rescuing me?" Suddenly, he felt rough hands pulling him off balance, then another pair jerking his arms painfully behind him. Clark was puzzled for a moment, then it hit him as a thin-lipped smile spread across Luthor's face. "Clark, it seems your investigative nature will be your downfall," he sneered. "Put him in the holding cell, and we'll deal with him *after* we're through with more urgent matters." "Let's go, cowboy," a hard-sounding voice hissed in his ear as he felt the hard point of a gun being jabbed in his back. "Yeah, I think it's him. He was the one making out with the dumb broad under the table," another voice declared. Holding cell? Dumb broad? Maybe, just maybe... Clark felt his spirits lift slightly despite his dire predicament. "We can't have you ruining things for us, Bub. Tough luck you got caught, but we don't have time to deal with you now." Clark didn't struggle as the two men pushed him along in the dark. He was praying that they'd take him to Lois. The broken ribs were in excruciating pain from his arms being held behind his back and hard metal of the gun causing his back to arch severely. They arrived at an old freezer. The thug who wasn't holding Clark at gunpoint tugged at the long metal door handle and opened the door. Before being shoved in the makeshift prison cell, the voice sneered again, "Enjoy your stay here today, because you're taking a long ride off a short pier tonight." The other thug chimed in sarcastically, "That is if you don't freeze to death first. Makes handling you a lot easier later on if ya half frozen when we plug ya." Clark felt himself being pushed into the room, falling hard on the cement. White, hot pain blinded him when he landed on his injured side. It was cold in the room - for regular humans, as Clark soon grew aware of - then knew the goons' last comments had meant the freezer had been turned on. As the throbbing pain in his side ebbed, he managed to open his eyes and looked around for Lois. The room was almost pitch black, the only light coming from an almost dead fluorescent overhead lamp as it flickered in its last stages of life. Water was dripping from somewhere; the floor was wet; and in the air hung a rotting stench of mildew and staleness from longtime exposure to moisture. Old ice clung to the corners of the ceiling in frosty clouds, dark thunderheads standing over him in ominous warning. Tied up in ropes, she was shivering on the filthy, damp floor. A faint bruise was starting to show on her cheek as it spread out from beneath a dirty blindfold. Clark's heart caught in his throat as he rasped out loud, "Lois..." Through the thick fog enveloping her mind, Lois pulled out of a restless sleep at the sound of her name. Flashbacks of being struck in the face from not answering their questions about the rock came flooding back in bits and pieces. Cold fear began to smother her mind, and she instinctively curled up in a tighter ball at the ruckus caused by Clark's entrance. "Lois? Are you okay?" He crawled painfully over to her and touched her shoulder but was dismayed when she pulled sharply away from him. "It's me, Clark!" he whispered anxiously as his fears began to grow about her state of mind and what these men could have possibly done to her. Clark. She must be dreaming about Clark again. In the time that she'd been in this Godforsaken place, she'd desperately wished that he would come for her, but began to fear for his safety when it appeared that her kidnappers had no intention of letting her go alive. She'd even called for Kal in hopes that he had recovered from the ill effects that the rock had on him, but was scared for him also. He must still not be back to normal, and she didn't even know if he could have heard her cries even if his powers had returned. Now someone had reappeared and was trying to disturb her nice dreams about Clark. The gentle hand on her shoulder shaking her awake was not like *theirs*. The blindfold had been removed from her face, but she still clenched her eyes closed tightly. Could she dare open them and hope against hope? "Clark?" she whispered in a small voice. "Yes, it's me, sweetheart," he exclaimed, quickly freeing her from the ropes. "Clark?" She murmured groggily as he sat down beside her, gathering her up in his arms away from the wet floor. "Clark? Is that you?" She opened her eyes at last and found the face of her dreams staring at her, looking extremely relieved and smiling gently. "Clark, it's really you," she said, her voice fragile and shaking. "Lois, my Lois..." His large hand cupped her face and held it gently. The pain from his injuries eased into the background upon hearing her voice and being able to touch her once more. Passion born of desperation and relief overwhelmed him as he lowered his face to cover her lips with his. He felt her say his name against his lips one more time before she returned his kiss with reckless abandon as slim arms wound their way around his neck. His mouth left hers to rain kisses along her cheek and down her neck as he pulled her close, never wanting to let her go again. Her small form fit perfectly against his as he buried his face in the hollow of her shoulder. Lois' arms tightened around his neck, and her trembling slowly ebbed in the security of his embrace. At last, they had found each other. ***** Lois could feel Clark's uneven breathing on her neck as they clung to each other in the dark room. He was real, warm and holding her so very close. Her lips still tingled from his kiss a few moments ago. Funny, it seemed that they had been so drawn to each other physically, and now here in the confines of a cold makeshift prison, she needed him emotionally too. No, it wasn't pure physical attraction that had drawn her to him. Well, maybe at first, but as the White Orchid ball had gone on that previous evening, something else had formed in her heart for him. Hero worship. It had to be hero worship - plain and simple - she tried to convince herself. Yet, underneath the table earlier that night, they had both acknowledged a bond that was growing for one another. The feelings that he stirred inside of her were far beyond simple hero worship. Could it be that thread of connection that had brought him to her now? Soon the steady drip of water in the background began to remind her once more of their dire predicament. Reluctantly, she was the first one to finally pull away. "Where are we, and how did you find me?" Clark sighed, then reluctantly released her, still holding her loosely around the shoulders. "I had to find you. When I heard you cry out on the phone, I... Oh, Lois! You're so cold!" He rubbed her back with his hands, trying to generate some heat by using friction. "Is that any warmer?" "That's a little better, but I'm still freezing. My feet are starting to go numb. Oh, Clark! I didn't know if any one would ever find me!" She shivered and pressed into his warm body. "It's Luthor! He's behind all this!" Clark replied, "I saw him here a few minutes ago." "It was all staged by his thugs. You saw him too? Some idiot hit him on the head too hard, and now they're all worried about what Luthor's going to do to them when he wakes up." "He's awake now, but not looking so well. Why is he doing this? Did you find out what this is all about?" Clark asked, waving his hand in emphasis. "I have an idea, but I don't have much to go on. Did you call the police?" "No, I got over to the Ace O' Clubs as fast as I could, but I got a bit detained," he paused, and then continued guiltily. "I thought Luthor was in trouble, so I tried to help him, but his goons appeared and I got caught too." "Now they have you too. Way to go, professor. Now no one knows where we are," Lois retorted, pulling away from his chest to glare at him. "You didn't seem to let anybody know where *you* were going when you charged over here," Clark protested back at her. "Yeah, well... I called you." "While you were being hauled away," Clark said defensively. "Let's forget about it, Lois. This is no time to argue." "I suppose you are right," she conceded, as she snuggled back against the warm haven of his chest. "So where are we?" "It's an old warehouse on Wharf Street." "Oh, this place again. How did you find me?" she asked. "Your rock. That was ingenious of you to mark the building with it." "I didn't do it on purpose. It must have dropped out of my pocket when I came here the first time. They knocked me out as soon as they pulled me away from the phone. The next thing I knew, I woke up in here trussed up like a turkey. They've been in and out a couple of times to *question* me about it." She rolled her eyes and sighed as she recalled the verbal and physical abuse she'd received from the tall thug. A puzzling thought began gnawing in her mind, and after a couple of seconds, she realized what it was. "How do you know about the rock?" she challenged. He scrambled to account for his, Clark's, knowledge of the rock. "Um... Bobby Bigmouth told me that these guys were after you for it." It had been Kal who Lois had shown the rock, not Clark. He wasn't prepared to tell her now that he was Kal, but after they got out of this, he planned to sit her down and tell her. Suddenly, he remembered the rock in his apartment - the perfect reason. "I know of another piece of rock that someone had in his possession. Unfortunately, he's dead now." "Another rock?" she replied despairingly, wondering exactly how many of those pesky things she'd have to field for Kal before this was all over. "Please tell me you have it!" "It's in a safe place," Clark answered, recalling painfully how he managed to get the one in his apartment back in the lead pipe and under the metal waste can. Not the safest place in the world, but it would do providing Luthor's men didn't raid his home. "Why are these people interested in it?" "I don't know. It's the strangest thing I've ever seen. I found the first piece in the punchbowl at the White Orchid ball. One of the goons dropped it in there. "Punchbowl? So is that why you were sneaking around and hiding under the refreshment table?" "Yes. I'm sorry I didn't get around to telling you about it. At the time I was preoccupied by some handsome guy in a tux," she replied, slightly embarrassed. "I wish I had told you immediately, but I've gotten burned sharing information with other reporters in the past. Maybe I was subconsciously doing some psycho thing." Clark tightened his arms around her in a silent response. Lois sighed, accepting Clark's unspoken answer, then asked another question. "So where is the other rock now? Do you have it with you, or did the thugs find it again?" Clark looked sheepish and replied, "It's down the sewer. I kicked it down there so they couldn't get hold of it again. I *do* know where the other piece is. I just wanted to find you." She threw an annoyed glance at him, then her expression softened. Clark seemed very haggard and disheveled, not at all like the confident reporter she had been with earlier. Lois shifted her weight in his lap to get a better look at him. He sucked in his breath sharply when her elbow brushed his side. "Are you okay? I haven't even bothered to ask you... You're hurt! Oh, Clark! What happened? What did they do to you?" He stilled her attempt to get off his lap. "Don't go. I injured my ribs before I got here. They're either cracked or broken, but you're fine where you are. Please stay," he pleaded, rubbing her arm soothingly. "Just no sudden moves." "Okay, but I don't want to hurt you." She leaned her head against his shoulder and rested her hand on the crook of his neck in a half embrace. "What happened?" "I got hit by a car on the way out here. I wasn't thinking and made a mistake." "Oh Clark! Are you really okay?" She searched his eyes to see if he was telling the truth. His warm smile convinced her that he wasn't trying to hide anything. "Just my ribs. I'm fine. Here, let me see your face," he replied. His face grew tight as he gently fingered the bruise just above her cheekbone. "Does it hurt very much?" "No, it's okay, but my headache's back. Probably from too much champagne," Lois answered distractedly, enjoying his tender caress in spite of the war going on in her head. Her cheek was still smarting from the hard backhand given to her as she was dragged away from the telephone. The old champagne headache from earlier in the night had flared up in full force again, yet Clark's gentle touch on her injured cheek was sending warm flurries to the pit of her stomach. Clark set his jaw, and then asked the question he'd been worried about for so long. "They didn't *hurt* you, did they?" She could hear the tense undertones in his voice and understood the implications. "No, Clark. I'm fine," she sighed. "I just got slapped around a couple of times, that's all." She reached for his hand on her shoulder and gave it a quick squeeze to reassure him. "How are we going to get out of here?" "I'll get us out. Don't worry. *We'll* think of something." His fingers moved up to her temples and began massaging gently. "Does that hurt?" "No, that's helping. Thanks," she murmured. She shivered once more, but not because she was cold. "Here, sit up for a second," he said, as he moved her away from his chest and pulled his sweatshirt over his head with one arm. Not an easy task, but Lois helped him wiggle his arm out of the sleeve on the same side as his injury. He leaned back against the wall, replaced Lois against his bare chest and blanketed her with his shirt. "There. I hope that's better. Now get some sleep; I'll try to stay awake." "Aren't you going to be cold? I can't take your shirt!" she protested. "What about your ribs?" "No problem. I'll be fine," Clark insisted, wincing as she relaxed in his arms. He wished he could warm her more, but his shirt and body heat would have to do. "Just a minute, buster," she said softly. "If you're going to go all noble on me, then I'm not going to let you outdo me." She removed herself from his arms, stood up and held out her hands to help him to his feet. Clark's eyes grew round as she first, handed him his sweatshirt, then slipped off her own. She met his eyes boldly for a second, then turned away to tend to the business at hand. First, she tore the hem of her old sweatshirt, then split the side of the shirt. Holding it sideways, she ripped the bottom off into a huge single strip. She fashioned the ends of the cloth into ties on either end. She was glad the shirt was a few years old, or she'd have had a lot harder time ripping the thick material. "Okay, big guy, hold your breath in while I tie this around your middle. It'll support your ribs." Watching her actions with wonder, Clark gritted his teeth as her hands manipulated the cloth into support for his injury. Even in the dim light, she was more beautiful than he ever dared to dream. He was mesmerized by the soft graceful sway of her body and creamy pale skin, slowly growing aware that the temperature in the cold room had risen significantly. Although the most intimate parts of her body were covered, he closed his eyes gallantly and fought against his instincts to take her in his arms and kiss her passionately again. "Sorry if I'm hurting you," she said looking up after she was done fastening the cloth. "That's okay. I think it's feeling better; at least it will after the pain goes away," he grinned good-naturedly. "I think it needs a little test run," she pronounced with a gleam in her eye. Lois gingerly wrapped her arms around his chest, being careful to keep her arms above the injured area. "Does this hurt?" she asked, looking up at him curiously. She wondered if he had his eyes closed because of the pain or because he was aware of her undressed state. "Not a bit," he replied raggedly while enfolding her in his arms once more. "But it's way too soon to tell." "Test number two." Lois laid her head against his chest and relaxed against his warm body, very soothing next to her face. Clark dropped his head down and rested his cheek on top of her head. Her pale skin was velvet beneath his hands as he began to caress her back in small, comforting strokes. "Any pain?" "Who needs drugs when I have you," he whispered into her hair, kissing it softly after he finished speaking. "So, did I make it feel better?" she asked coyly, relieved to have a tiny respite from the danger they were in. "Most certainly did," he answered, huskily. "I'm not feeling a thing." A chilly draft blew across her back, causing her to shiver. "I guess we'd better try to get some rest," she sighed reluctantly while untangling her arms from his and motioned for him to sit down. After a less painful descent down to the floor, Clark looked hopefully at her and patted his leg. She shivered again, then was in his lap before he knew it. "Got so cold all of a sudden. This old freezer *was* turned on." "Was?" "Yeah. After I kicked one of Luthor's thugs in the leg, I was able to turn the thermostat way up. That's why it's melting in here," she grinned slyly at him. "Good thinking! Um, Lois. I think you should put the sweat shirt back on," Clark declared, trying to be noble as he felt her warm flesh snuggle up against his. "Omigosh! I'm getting cold," Lois blurted, ducking her head down to lay on his chest in slight embarrassment. "Details, Clark. It's not like you haven't seen a woman in a bathing suit before, right? Not that this is a swimsuit, but it's like a swimsuit... I mean you've probably seen a few women without their undergarments on, though it's none of my business who you've seen. Plus, I heard that skin-to-skin contact is much warmer. Cover us with the shirt and we'll be perfectly fine." Clark quickly blanketed her with the thick shirt. This was basically innocent, although he might not be able to see her anymore, but he could certainly *feel* her. They were doing this for warmth, right? "Shouldn't we be trying to get out of here? After we get warm?" Lois objected weakly. Moving from her position on Clark's lap was not high on her list of priorities, although it should have been. "I, for one, am not going to stick around and wait to be killed." "We can't do anything with those two guys standing watch. See their shadows under the door?" He pointed through the darkness at the figures moving beyond the freezer door's seal that had been long rotted away. "They've been there the whole time as far as I know. I've heard them talking," Lois wearily said. "The door is as solid as a rock." "So you've looked around?" Clark asked. "Very funny! I had a blindfold on, but I managed to wiggle my way around, and there's no way out except through that door," she shuddered, remembering the frustrating and frightening moments she had in the dark trying to find a way out of her small, cold prison. "So it appears we have to wait for them to make the next move," Clark stated. "Unfortunately, yes," Lois said despairingly. "I hate waiting, and why did they have to put us in here of all places? Do you think they could've made it more miserable for us? How about throwing in a few rats to top it off? If I ever get a clear shot at them, they're going to be singing soprano for the Metropolis opera..." His warm fingers silenced her lips. "Lois, let's be patient until those guys stop moving around out there, then we can see what we can do about getting us out of here. They said something about getting rid of us tonight, and the sun's just starting to rise. I think they don't have time to deal with us now. But until then there is no sense in working yourself up," Clark said, calmly as he felt her growing fear. "Besides, we need clear heads for later, so try to get some rest. Are you okay like this? I mean... staying warm? I wouldn't want you thinking I'm trying to take advantage of you." "I'm fine, really. Thanks, Clark. There're not too many guys that would give you the shirt off their back, you big boy scout. And it was my idea to use it as a blanket. I think it's much warmer, don't you? Well, don't do anything about them without me," Lois sighed, stifling a yawn. "I really don't want to go to sleep, but it's been a long day." "You're welcome, anytime." Clark slouched to the side so she could lean back a little more, and adjusted his arms around her. Plus, his new position eased the pain in his ribs. Maybe he'd tell her now, that in his real life he was Clark Kent, but moonlighted as Superman and her friend Kal. Was this the right time? How would she react? She had wanted only friendship from him as Kal and told him that she wasn't ready for another relationship. But now she was snuggling up in his arms, with his real identity, showing all signs of enjoying their undressed conditions in spite of the danger they were in. He wanted to believe that it could be this way between them when she knew the truth, but he was still so uncertain. He should be feeling guilty for relishing this contact between them, and a small part of him did, but the rest of his conscience was completely content. After they were out of this nasty place, when their emotions weren't so on edge, he'd fill her in on who he was. By then, perhaps she wouldn't think being with someone from another planet was a bad idea. "Warmer? Lois?" Her answering 'hmmm...' was lost as she fell asleep. Although they were in the dreariest of situations, Clark was not too worried, he could do his best to protect her now. He had Lois sleeping in his arms and all was well in his world. ***** A sharp crack startled Clark out of a fitful sleep. He waited a long moment before realizing that the sound had come from inside the freezer and not from any outside influences. The warehouse seemed strangely quiet, and he wasn't sure how long they'd been sleeping, but the dripping in the freezer had intensified making him think that they'd been sleeping for quite a while. A rather large puddle was spreading towards where he and Lois were sitting, probably reaching them soon. He had tried to stay in his watchdog mode for the rest of the night, but it had not been too long before he had dozed off also. He had needed to sleep so badly, and even with Lois in his arms - or rather *because* of Lois in his arms - he managed to rest well enough to feel a bit refreshed. Now he felt he was in a better position. He knew right where Lois was, and he was going to move heaven and earth to make sure she stayed safe. He had to take full advantage of any chance to escape when it presented itself, but for now he wasn't in a hurry to start looking for a way out yet. He was perfectly content to cradle this sleeping woman in his arms as long as possible, for a few more minutes at least. Sometime while they were sleeping, he had gently shifted her position so that she was resting on his lap in order to prevent her from sitting on the damp floor. Her feet were tucked under her now, safe and warm on top of his leg as he had sat cross- legged, sleeping with his head resting on top of hers. He didn't know that she was without her shoes; that was one thing she'd forgotten to mention to him. Her cheek was nestled against his bare chest, and he could feel her breathe, aware of her every exhale against his skin. The smooth bare skin of her arms rested on his stomach, her hands curled in a semi-fetal position under the warmth of his sweatshirt. He smoothed away a strand of hair caught in the corner of her mouth and pressed an easy kiss on top of her head. The tenderness he felt at the moment from having Lois safe in his arms almost overwhelmed him. Even though he'd lost his powers, he knew he was in far more trouble with his feelings for her than against any enemy they were now facing. Suddenly feeling guilty at the direction his thought processes were taking, he lifted his cheek from her hair and thought he'd better distract himself with something a little bit more relevant to their predicament. He promised her friendship, but in the light of his relationship with her as Clark, he needed to give her a chance to make a choice on which road they should travel down. But more importantly, he had to find a way for them to escape. Looking around the small freezer that was their prison, he concluded the ice cracking on the ceiling caused the sharp noise that had woken him. A rather large fissure was beginning to widen as the ice began its descent down the freezer's wall. Lois stirred in his arms and his attention was drawn back to her. Her eyelids fluttered open for a second, but then she was still once more. It wouldn't be long now and she'd be awake, Clark thought. Since it was still so quiet, he thought now would be the perfect time to see if there was any way to escape. "Lois?" He shook her shoulder gently. "It's time to wake up." Lois had a sensation of being safe guarded, somewhere warm, where no harm could come to her. Her hand uncurled and explored tentatively, its palm running over hard muscles and smooth skin. She vaguely remembered being pleasantly comfortable during the night - warm heat washing over her in a blanket of comfort. Where was she? Her bed had never felt this good... maybe it was all a lovely dream. Did dreams have broad shoulders and corded neck muscles? Her thumb rubbed lazily against the soft pliable skin under his jaw. As she drifted upwards towards awareness, trying to respond to Clark's gentle shaking and soft voice, her eyes felt as if lead weights were holding them down, she couldn't open them yet. Claude, her subconscious thought. No. Claude never made her feel so... safe... like she was a treasure to be protected at all costs. Suddenly, she recalled the pain of being struck in the face, of bone-chilling damp cold. Of... Clark attempting to save her! He had tried to perform some sort of super heroics to rescue her, and now they were stuck together in some sort of hellhole! He was holding her, and she was relieved to know he was still with her. She murmured something unintelligible, then her eyes opened sleepily, "Oh, we're still here. I was hoping this was all a big nightmare." There was an awkward untangling of limbs as she sat up and moved herself over so she could be seated next to Clark. "How long have I been sleeping?" she said sleepily as she realized that she was not wearing a shirt. "A few hours, I think. It's hard to tell sitting in the dark," Clark said, handing her the sweatshirt as he diverted his eyes. "How are you feeling? Were you warm enough?" He was slightly disturbed that Lois was being so casual with him, but seeing Lois awake did not give him time to obsess about it. "I was quite warm, thanks. You're a very toasty guy. And I'm feeling a little better, but I can still sleep for a week." She slipped the shirt quickly over her head and tucked her arms in the sleeves. Smoothing down the front of the she felt something in the front pocket. "What's this?" She looked questioningly at Clark. Clark looked puzzled for a moment as he tried to remember, but then his face split into a huge grin. "Those are for you. I hope you like chocolate." "Chocolate?" Looking hopeful, she pulled out a small bag, then reached inside to retrieve its contents. "Double Fudge Crunch bars?" she exclaimed excitedly, immediately tearing the wrapper off one and taking a bite. "A little beat up, but..." Laying her head on his shoulder, she nudged it gently and sighed in delight. "Mmmm... my hero. How did you know these were my favorite candy bars?" He chuckled and replied, "Lucky guess, I suppose." After devouring two of them, she asked, inclining her head towards the door. "So is anything happening with them?" "Nothing yet. It seems to be fairly quiet. I haven't heard anything for a while. Either they're sleeping or have left the place. That's why I woke you; we need to check this room out more thoroughly." "How can we do that with so little light? Wait a minute!" She scrambled to her feet and felt her way to the wall, found the light switch and turned it off. "Sometimes these old fluorescent bulbs will work better if you turn them off for a few minutes. I have one of these in my room and it's real temperamental." "Let's hope you're right. How long should we leave it off?" Clark asked as he rose to his feet and stood alongside her. "Not too long. Here, let's see." She flicked the light back on. It flickered for a second, then the same faint glow came back. "Oh, come on! There's got to be some more life left in there!" Lois said in desperation. "Maybe the connection is loose. Let's see if we can tighten the bulb up." Clark suggested. "Let me lift you up." "Are you going to be able to do that, I mean with your ribs?" She looked at him with sudden concern. Clark took a quick appraisal of his injury, noting that they still ached, but didn't have shooting pains as they had a few hours before. The UV rays might have revitalized him more than he first thought; his healing process seemed to be speeding up. "They're feeling much better. I'm beginning to think that they're only barely cracked or just bruised. It won't hurt to try. Beats getting shot and thrown in the river." "Okay, but don't do anything stupid just to prove that you're all macho." As Clark picked up Lois, he teasingly groaned under her weight. "Oh Clark! Am I hurting you?" "Lois, did you have to eat *all* those appetizers last night? I may bust another rib!" "Very funny," she said, lightly thwapping the side of his head. "If I'd known you were such a muscle man, I would've eaten two more plates full. Just a little higher... there!" The long bulb flickered a bit faster, then under Lois' manipulation, it came to life. "Hey, good job," he said, placing her down. As Clark took a look around the newly lit room, he failed to see Lois' mouth drop open at the sight of his shirtless back. "Clark, shouldn't you put your shirt back on before you catch a cold?" Lois gulped, attempting to pick her jaw off the floor. The new light had revealed more than she anticipated. He was so... well-defined. She picked up her old torn up shirt and held it out to him in self-defense. "Just a minute, check this out Lois?" Clark said intently, concentrating on the big crack in the ice. "Believe me, I'm checking," she muttered under her breath as she walked a couple steps over to where he was standing and tried to concentrate on what he was pointing at. Beyond the thick coating of frosty ice was a small handle. And a small door. The door was three feet square and placed about waist high. The frost was thick on the wall, and now that it was melting, the cloudy crystals had become more opaque. What was beyond the door was hopefully an escape route if he could find a way to get through the ice. "Clark? Is that what I think it is? A door? Can we get out?" Flashing her a quick smile, he acknowledged, "Yep!" Lois scooted closer to the ice to have a closer look. "I suppose this is some sort of service door. I wonder if it opens up to the outside." "I doubt it, in this neighborhood?" Focusing at the task at hand, Clark said, "We're going to have to chip this ice away. Hopefully, if we can get through to the door, it will be unlocked. I'd like to lift you up again to see if you can pull the ice away from the wall in one sheet. Looks like it's melted enough for you to get your fingers between the ice and ceiling." "Are you sure? I wouldn't want you to strain yourself lifting me up again," Lois quipped, thrilled to be doing something to get out of their prison. "And who said the life of a reporter wasn't hazardous?" he said jokingly, his attention returning to Lois. "I'll show you hazardous!" she said defensively, amazed at how easy they found it to tease each other. "Oh yeah! I'd like to see you try!" Spirits lifted, they flew into each other's arms in a spontaneous hug. Their eyes locked together as Clark's grin turned into a tender smile. Lois felt her insides dissolve into mush as she said softly, "We'd better get going." "Before they come back." He lifted his hand and gently touched the bruise on her cheek. "That's quite a shiner," he murmured, reluctant to break the unexpected moment between them. "All in the line of duty," she said slowly, riveted to the sensation of his touch on her face. "Not bad for not having started your first day yet." He cupped the side of her face with his hand and continued to tenderly stroke her bruise with his thumb. "Do I get top billing on this story?" she whispered, leaning ever so slightly into his palm as she drew deeper into his gaze. "Lois, you're pretty high maintenance, you know that?" His voice dropped even lower. Sensations of flying washed over him, but he knew his powers weren't back and his feet were still on the ground. "Yeah, but I'm worth it." "I *know* you are." Clark punctuated each word distinctively. His fingers trailed slowly up the side of her face to smooth back the hair that was brushing against the back of his hand and felt himself getting swept away. He knew he should back away, but the promise he'd made her suddenly was shoved in the back closet of his mind. The intensity in his voice as he spoke those simple words hit her hard. She nearly stopped breathing as her heart pounded loudly in her ears, suddenly aware of the electricity that was building between them once more. She held his steady gaze for a second longer before glancing down to compose herself. Clark let his hand drop slowly as he became aware that the moment was passing. "We should..." He released a heavy sigh and tilted his head toward the wall. "We'd better..." Collecting himself, he turned to her. "Ready partner? You might feel steadier if you sit on my shoulders. You're going to need some leverage to pull the ice away." "So let's get this show on the road," she said, taking a deep breath. The thought of having to touch him again played havoc with her nerves. Clark grinned sheepishly at her. "Yeah, let's blow this popsicle stand. Ready?" "Ready," she replied with a determined smile. ****** After a few awkward attempts, which almost resulted in them sprawled out on the floor laughing, they gave up on having her sit on his shoulders. Clark was in discomfort from straining his ribs, so they decided that he should kneel and let Lois stand on one of his bent legs while he supported himself with the other. Lois probed the frost and became excited when she found that some of it crumbled away easily. She scraped it with both hands after feeling more secure on her perch; soon she heard cries of protest from Clark. "Hey, watch where you are throwing that stuff! You're getting it in my face!" "Oops! Sorry! Clark, I think I'm almost through to the wall! The ice up here is so soft; it's falling apart when I touch it. Seems like it's been defrosting for a long time. Kind of like your grandmother's old refrigerator where it seemed to snow every time you opened up that little freezer door," she said excitedly. "My nails will never be the same. But oh, who cares about that right now! Can you raise me up a bit more? I need to get a little higher..." As Clark obliged Lois' wish, she worked diligently for a few more minutes, her mouth working as fast as her hands as she continued to pelt him in the face with the fruit of her labor. Clark stayed on alert for the return of the guards, but mostly he was enjoying the concert of sounds coming from above his head. He cherished his moments with Lois, even if it included occasional slaps of cold ice in his face. "Clark! I think this slab of ice is moving! It seems to be melting faster next to the wall... almost like the wall is being heated." Clark thought for a moment, then answered, "It was almost dawn when I got here. Maybe the warehouse is warming up from the sun. I don't know how long we had been sleeping. Now that you turned the freezer off, maybe the metal is starting to conduct heat." "I don't care if this thing is being heated by a small nuclear blast. The ice is melting and that's all I care about." She poked her way through the old frost buildup and was finally able to touch the wall. If she only had something to pry the ice away from wall in order to break the water tension that was holding up the sheet of ice. Her hands were very cold and starting to hurt. Glancing down, she scanned the ground for any makeshift tool that she could find. "Aha!" she yelled into Clark's ear after spying something on the ground behind him. "See if you can get that old shelving bracket. It looks like it's still a bit stuck beneath the ice on the floor." Following the direction of Lois' pointing finger, Clark turned partially around, pried the bracket away from the ice and handed it up to her. She promptly wedged in between the ice and wall then began to apply leverage. A few seconds later, a large chunk of ice fell away from the wall, but the momentum caused her to slip off her perch on Clark's leg and fall into his waiting arms. "We keep ending up this way," she retorted, after catching her breath. "I wonder if the gods are trying to tell us something." Clark thought. He was listening loud and clear to whoever was trying to give them a message, and just perhaps, Lois was thinking along the same lines. But he didn't have long to ponder on those thoughts because something caught his attention near his eye level. With one hand that was not holding onto Lois, Clark explored the ice covering the handle and was surprised when it moved a bit. "Lois! I think we can get through to the door handle." With the makeshift tool that Lois had been using, Clark stabbed at the ice hoping to crack it a bit so he could break it away. In a couple of minutes, the bare handle was freed and they now faced the moment they had been anticipating - a chance to escape. The handle was a smaller version of the larger one on the main door. The door swung to the outside, away from them. Clark caught Lois' eyes briefly, pulled on the handle, and then pushed tentatively. He wasn't sure if the door was rigged to a security system and was relieved when he didn't hear any alarms go off. More than likely, the thugs didn't even know that the small loading door existed. It had been hidden pretty well behind the ice. Clark pushed harder on the door, and it opened about two inches, meeting with more resistance. Lois mumbled something unintelligible behind him, then pushed him out of the way. "You're never going to be able to open that door with your sore ribs. Let me try," she ordered while shoving against the door with her shoulder. "There has to be something blocking it." To her satisfaction, the door moved another couple of inches that enabled them to see light through the crack. "Clark! I think they've stacked crates in front of the door. If we can push them far enough away, then we can climb out." "Let's try pushing together," Clark suggested. He instinctively knew he shouldn't leave Lois out of the muscling job ahead of them. She seemed determined to be a part of the escape process. "On three. One, two..." Lois anticipated that Clark would jump the gun in trying to be a hero again. In unison, their shoulders bumped against the door at the same time, causing it to move another few inches. Lois tried to stick her head through the opening. It almost fit, so she backed out and squared her shoulder for another shove. A hand caught her arm. "Easy there," Clark said softly. "I'd hate for you to hurt yourself. One of us being injured is enough. Besides, we don't want to knock anything down and alert the thugs." Lois frowned. "So what should we do, city boy?" She turned around to face him and was confronted with an engaging smile *and* bare chest. "For your information, I was raised in the country on a farm," Clark grinned. "One thing's for sure, I've never been accused of being a city slicker. Them there's fightin' words, miss." "You mean you're a hick? A hayseed? A hack from Nowheresville?" Lois asked in disbelief. Clark was so self-assured; she never would have guessed that he had grown up anywhere else except Metropolis. Of course that could explain why he was such a boy scout and hero. Coming from the country had instilled in him some morals that were lacking in the majority of men she'd known. "Hick, hayseed and hack. Yep, I guess I qualify for those. Maybe even someday I'll take you to the Smallville Corn Festival. You haven't danced until you've done the 'tush push' under a large tent on a late summer's night. Beats dodging Luthor at the White Orchid any day." "Smallville? You've got to be kidding. On second thought, no one could make up a name like that." Lois inched a bit closer to him and began tracing lazy circles on his chest. "But doing the 'tush push' with you sounds... very tempting. Would you teach me?" Clark covered the distracting hand on his chest and frowned slightly at finding it so cold. "Your hands are freezing. We, um... should get out of here first, then talk about lessons later. But I'd love to teach you how to do the 'tush push', and maybe even another kind of dance you've never done before." He thought ahead to perhaps taking her dancing in the clouds once he told her he was Kal. "But," he protested, shrugging his head towards the door and looked half- apologetic for interrupting. Her eyes strayed for an instant to their hands still resting against his chest, wondering what other sort of dance he was thinking about. No. He wouldn't be so bold as to suggest *that* kind of dancing to her, not this soon in knowing each other. Her cheeks burned slightly at the thought. But she *was* sort of touching him suggestively. He might be interpreting that as major flirting, but what red-blooded American woman could resist that chest, or any woman *anywhere* for that matter. Hmmm... It was so... cute, so very touchable, but Clark was right. They had to get out of here. "Okay, I'll give you that one, buckaroo." She curled her hand around his and gave it a little squeeze. "We have business to take care of." Clark released her hand and pushed the door open a couple more inches, just wide enough for her to squeeze through. He stuck his head out the opening and looked around for a few seconds. "There. I think you should be able to fit, although it's going to be tight squeeze. You go first and see if you can move some boxes out of the way. Unless you want me to try, but I don't think anyone is out there." Lois looked at the tiny space that she had to fit through and then turned to Clark. "You'd never make it, not without squeezing your ribs. Besides, we don't know how much weight the boxes can hold. Besides, I am lighter than you. You farm-raised boys get awfully big." "Make sure when you get up there, the boxes are sound enough to support you. I don't want you falling." "Yeah, yeah, farm boy. That's just what I said. Now give my tush a push so I can get out of here. Don't be surprised if you're not the only one who's climbed up into their share of haylofts." "Just be careful, Lois. If you end up getting hurt, I'd never forgive myself." Lois stepped onto his bent leg to climb through the waist high door and with Clark's helping hand, managed to wiggle her way up through the hole, and land in between the space of a couple of boxes. It gave way slightly as her full weight settled on it. Clark *had been* right when he said to be careful up here. She worked her way over to a sturdier-looking box and felt a little easier. This one wasn't quite as wobbly as the box she had first landed on. Now she had to relocate a couple of them to make way for Clark's much larger frame. At first, she tried just shoving the boxes to the side a bit more, but it appeared that they had moved them as far as they could when they had opened the door. When she stood up, the lowest height was around waist high. The only way they were going to get down from their perch was to climb up and over, then find another way down. But as it was set up now, there was no room for Clark unless she made space for him. "Lois. Lois?" She broke her concentration from trying to hoist a smaller one up to the top of the heap and heard Clark's urgent calls. After stepping over to the door again, Clark pressed a rope into her hands. "Take this. We might need it later." "I guess it wouldn't hurt to take it along. We're going to have to climb over all these boxes so we might need it to get down. Of course if we find a stray bad guy along the way, we'll have something to tie him up with. Hold on to it for a second. I almost have enough room for you. Once the box in her arms was up and out of the way, the door was able to open a bit wider for Clark to fit through. Soon he was seated next to her on top of the wooden box. What immediately caught his attention was not the fact that they had finally escaped - though that fact *was* pretty incredible - but that there was sunlight streaming in through the windows of the warehouse. The boxes had been shading the entrance to the freezer, and now that he was out in the open, he could feel the rays absorbing through his skin. Had it really been almost twenty-four hours since he'd had any sunlight? The tanning bed had felt wonderful, but there was nothing like the genuine article. He sat there for a couple of moments with his eyes closed. "Clark? Are you okay? Are your ribs hurting again?" She laid her hand on his cheek and looked expectantly at him. A wistful smile touched his lips as he looked at her again and saw the genuine concern on her face. "I'm just happy to be out of there. We made it out of the freezer. Now we need to get out of this warehouse, but these rays feel great." "It *is* nice to be in the warm sunshine." She rubbed her not-so- cold hands together and settled down next to Clark. "I wonder if we should wait until it gets dark before we start sneaking around," Lois pondered. "This warehouse is huge, and I don't know how long it's going to take us to find a way to the outside. Plus, we might be able to find out what they're up to." "They said they were coming for us after dark. I don't know if we should wait. Once they discover us missing from the freezer, they're going to look up here through the small door." "So, do you think you have the dumb criminal mind analyzed?" she challenged with a half grin. "What if they take one look in the freezer and say, 'Hey! Those two must be long gone by now. Let's go look over here,' and we happen to be in one of the places where they look, then all this would be for nothing." Clark lifted an amused eyebrow at her. "So what if they look in the freezer and say, 'Oh, they're not here. You go take a look out that little door, and I'll take a couple of men and look in the warehouse.' We would be discovered before the warehouse- searching thug would even be out of the freezer door. I think we have a better chance if we keep moving. I would dearly love to sunbathe here with you, more than you could know." Lois asked, "Okay, 007, so what's the plan, or are we going to know it when we see it?" "We'll probably know it when the opportunity hits. But for now, I'm going to crawl up across these boxes and see what's going on below. It's strange that we haven't heard anything from Luthor or his men at all. After you fell asleep, they milled around for a while outside the door, then they either left or took a nap. With all the noise we've been making, my bet is that they're not around anymore," Clark said in a whisper. "Noise! You're the one making all the noise with your snide comments." She was silenced with a hand clapped over her mouth. "I didn't mean you were making it deliberately," Clark mouthed to her. "I heard something. Shhh." After he was sure that she understood to be quiet, he released her mouth and whispered. "I'm going to check it out. Wait here." He climbed up and over the crates and surveyed to find the cause of the noise. To his delight, his super hearing seemed to have kicked in very briefly. Just perhaps his powers were starting to return. But then to his dismay, Lois was right behind him, creeping on her stomach. Clark shook his head in defeat as she drew along side him. This was no time to argue. As they peered out from their perch, the noise seemed to be coming from across the warehouse. Clark tried to zero in on the sounds with his super hearing, but it wasn't working anymore. Didn't hurt to try though. Snippets of conversation could also be heard, "Get this one... move faster... not much time... hey, that was my foot... get those two... rid of those nosy reporters... " It appeared that not much time was left to act. Clark was getting impatient. Not being able to use his powers was getting harder now that he needed them back. He *had* to get Lois out of here. Especially now that he knew the thugs were about to return. "Well, I don't hear anything. You're losing it, Kent. You're imagining things. Let's find a way down from here and see what going on in this place," Lois complained. "It still doesn't hurt to be cautious. Come over here *quietly* and I'll see about getting us down." They crawled over to the side of the roof. Clark took the rope from Lois, then wrapped the end once around area below his waist and sore ribs. "Hang on to the rope and get down carefully. Don't worry. I won't let the rope go. Then find something for me to climb down upon." Lois looked at him apprehensively and replied, "I don't have to remind you that if you drop me..." "No, Lois. I'd never drop you. Trust me," Clark said reassuringly. "You're wrapped up like a filet mignon, yet you want me to trust you?" She tugged on the rope tied to his middle tentatively. "Not a twinge," Clark declared proudly. After Lois made her descent, the words 'trust me' rung loud in her head. Maybe she *was* starting to trust Clark, she pondered as she set about pushing a box against the wall for him to climb down. After a couple minutes, Clark jumped softly down to the ground next to Lois and asked her, "How did you get this huge box over her? It looks way to heavy to move." "I found it way over there. It's not exactly light. I could barely push it." "I think we need to find out what's in these boxes. It might be our first clue as to what's going on around here." "Already looked. It's paint cans." "Paint cans?" "I had to make sure the box would hold your weight, so I opened it." Clark pulled a can out of the box and placed it on the stack of boxes against the wall. Turning around away from Lois, he lowered his glasses to see if his super vision had returned. The wood faded for an instant, then reappeared. Not quite yet. He did see a flash of paint cans, but didn't see what was in them." "We might want to take that to a lab later to have analyzed." Clark explained. He suspected strongly that the paint contained lead, but could not be sure if his vision was working properly yet. "Good idea. I think we should look around some more. Let's go." She charged ahead, grabbing his hand, knocking him off guard as he trailed helplessly behind her. They worked their way to the office area, checking inside a couple of rooms. Bed cots had been set up; trash cans had been filled with old leftover food. They found a small rest room, much to Lois' relief. As Lois was otherwise occupied, Clark glanced around the room for evidence and found nothing of importance except a large flannel shirt that he decided to put on. If they were caught again, he didn't want the thugs to see his vulnerable ribs. He sensed it was time to keep moving, from what he overheard while on the roof, they would be coming for them soon. "Let's go, Lois. There's not much here," he said when she reappeared again. He tried steering her out of the door, but she balked. "What about some sort of paper trail? We're here *now*. We might not get another chance to find anything," she insisted. "Lois, there is nothing to find here, if we have time later, we'll do a more thorough search," he said quietly, but firmly. "After we get out and call the police." He looked outside the door to see if it was safe to leave the room and held the door open for Lois. "What now, Sherlock?" she retorted. "I think we should head toward the entrance, and work on getting out of here before we are caught again. I don't want to think about what those guys would do to you if that happened. They have already kidnapped, hit you and imprisoned us, *and* they plan on disposing of us in the bay later. We can still look for evidence, open up a few boxes along the way, but our priority should be to get out of here." He touched the bruise on her cheek for emphasis. They walked out of the room into the safety of shadows along the dark corridor of stacked boxes and rounded the first turn into another section of the warehouse. Hearing noises ahead, Clark placed a hand on Lois' arm, holding her back. What lay before them was - nothing. What should have been more winding 'hallway' was gone; the piles and piles of boxes had disappeared. Clark estimated hundreds of boxes had been moved in a span of a few hours. Two large doors opened up on the floor ten feet away from where they were standing, and a half-a-dozen men were handing boxes to workers below. The light was adequate, giving the workers the necessary light to do their job, but low enough to allow the reporters to shrink back further into the shadows. Lois immediately recognized Luthor's right-hand man Larry, who was supervising the massive move of the boxes. The workers were handling these boxes with an ease that suggested that they were lighter than the ones she and Clark had opened after climbing down from the roof of the finished rooms. "Clark, we need to find out what's in those boxes. It can't be paint cans with the ease they are tossing them down that hole in the floor, " she stated in a whisper. "Unless the cans are empty," Clark mused. "Of course! That would make the boxes lighter, but why would they be so anxious to get rid of empty paint cans?" "What if it's the paint they need to hide? There would still be remnants of paint left in the cans after it was used." "A special paint? For what?" "I don't know, but let's see if we can confirm that it *is* empty paint cans in the boxes first before we come to any conclusions. "How? The boxes that are left are stacked too high to get one down without being noticed." "Another thought is that maybe they're empty now and are being taken to have something put in them." "A decoy perhaps?" "Maybe." "Let's sit tight for a few minutes. Maybe we can find out some more information if we just wait here. They don't know we're watching so we're safe for the time being." Clark whispered as he sat down to wait. "Just a few minutes, then we *have* to get out of here." At least he could keep his eye on the criminals and Lois, but his reporter's curiosity was piqued to the highest level at the scene unfolding before him. A few moments later as she was sitting cross-legged on the floor, Lois felt a strange sensation on one of her toes. Her wet socks had long been shed. They had been making her feet colder and more miserable. She wiggled her foot thinking it was a piece of trash or something and pushed it out of the way. A few seconds later, the feeling had returned, even more insistently. What a time for Clark to pick to play footsie, she thought disgustedly. She nudged the offender away again, thinking that maybe he would take a hint. The workers continued with the removing of the boxes down through the hole in the floor. It had to be some sort of tunnel where they were taking them. The unwanted presence was brushing against her feet again, and this time Lois shot a questioning glare at the man sitting next to her. To her surprise, one hand was in his lap and the other was supporting his weight behind him. It looked as though he was still favoring his ribs.